


In the Eye of the Beholder

by Treon



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 21:06:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Treon/pseuds/Treon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Neal and Peter can't agree on a story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Eye of the Beholder

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based on the X-Files episode "True Blood". Set late season-1-ish

It was shortly after 9am when Peter and Neal entered the FBI building. Neal, dressed in chic "I just robbed a bank" black, was herded by Peter, in a rumpled "it looked just as good yesterday" suit. The previous night's stakeout ended with Peter having to bail Neal out of jail. Neither man had much sleep the previous night and neither was very happy.  
  
Peter's hand was firmly on the other man's shoulder, ensuring he didn't dawdle. He let go once they reached the elevator banks, pushed the call button and took a look at his watch. Hughes had said he wanted to see them immediately and that was an hour ago. "Believe me, I'm not looking forward to this talk with Hughes any more than you are."  
  
Neal leaned against the wall, arms folded over his chest. "Really? I'm the one who's going to prison."  
  
Peter shot him a look before returning his gaze to the floor number indicator. "And I'm the one who's career is about to be derailed."  
  
"You're actually comparing a stint sorting files to spending four years in a super max?" Neal looked at him dumbfounded.  
  
Luckily, the elevator pinged open, saving Peter from having to answer. The agent walked in, but returned a second later to pull in his CI as well.  
  
Neal shrugged Peter's hand off. "What's the problem? Just tell him you were drugged."  
  
Peter pushed the button for the 21st floor. "I don't know what goes on in your world, but out here in the real world, that doesn't cut it. I'm an FBI agent, for crying out loud." Peter shook his head. "Besides, getting drugged was the least of it."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Let's start at the beginning, shall we?" Peter didn't wait for a response. "You came to me with a so-called 'tip' from a former accomplice of yours about a bank heist. And when we set up a stakeout, your accomplice drugged our team while you.." Peter waved a hang vaguely, "allowed them to walk off with 20 million in spare change."  
  
"Wait a second.. " Neal lunged at the control panel and quickly pressed every button he could.  
  
"What- What are you doing?" Peter pushed him away and stepped in between the panel and Neal.  
  
Having bought himself a few more minutes, Neal turned back to Peter. "That's what you're going to tell Hughes? That I'm the reason this op failed?"  
  
"I'm going to tell him exactly what happened."  
  
Neal snorted. "But that's not exactly what happened. Remember, I warned you about Moira."  
  
Now it was Peter's turn to snort . "Yeah, right."  
  
"So it's my fault you decided to go ahead with it?"  
  
"You were supposed to keep an eye on her! Not.. not.. " Peter spluttered, "not spend a bank robbery catching up with your ex-girlfriend."  
  
"She's not my ex-"  
  
"Yeah, yeah, we know. Sure had me fooled." The two glared at each other in silence for a long moment. The seconds ticked by. Peter broke first. "Fine, what exactly happened?"  
  
"Let's start at the very beginning, shall we?" Neal mimicked Peter. "It all began Monday morning. *Early* Monday morning, I should add. *Very early*."  
  
"OK, I get it."  
  
"I'd just made pancakes for breakfast, with a touch of cinnamon and honey-"  
  
"Is this really relevant?"  
  
"Yes, it is. Anyway.. I was just about to sit down for breakfast when there was a knock on the door.... "

 

> Neal glanced at the time. It was too early for an agent to show up to collect him. In fact, if it was FBI, they wouldn't have bothered to trudge up the four flights, they'd have just rung and expected him to run down. Mozzie didn't usually show up this early either, for very different reasons. Not unless there was a con involved. That left June.  
>   
>  But when he opened the door, he discovered somebody else standing there. A dark haired woman with whom he'd once spent a whirlwind two weeks. "Moira." He looked past her, expecting to see one of June's maids. But nobody was there. "How did you get in?"  
>   
>  She grinned broadly at him, and showed off the lock-pick in her hand. "I let myself in. Oh, god, Neal, it's been ages." She grabbed his shirt and being slightly shorter than Neal, drew him down for a kiss.  
>   
>  Neal took his time before he finally stepped back. There was no reason to deny himself after all.  But he quickly returned to the matter at hand. "You *broke* in?"  
>   
>  Moira pouted. "You make it sound as though there's something wrong with that."  
>   
>  "You *broke* in?"  
>   
>  "You know what? I leave the country for a few years, and I come back to find hell froze over. Oh and Neal Caffrey is now an honest-to-goodness FBI narc."  
>   
>  He lifted both hands to show innocence. "Hey, I'm just doing this to stay out of prison."  
>   
>  "Sure." She ducked around him to enter his apartment. "And I see you're doing quite well for yourself. This definitely beats a 6 by 10."  
>   
>  Neal closed the door and turned to follow her. It was enough talk about him and his FBI contacts. "How did you find me?"  
>   
>  "Oh, I happened to run into Mozzie yesterday. We caught up."  
>   
>  "And he *told* you I'm working for the Feds?" That didn't sound like the Mozzie he knew.  
>   
>  "I had to beat it out of him." She hid a grin at his scowling response. "You won't believe it, but he was really forthcoming."  
>   
>  "As far as I remember, Mozzie didn't really.. well.."  
>   
>  "Like me?" she supplied.  
>   
>  Neal shrugged. "You could say that."  
>   
>  "He didn't like *us*, Neal."  
>   
>  Neal could see how Mozzie would wave the FBI as a warning for people to stay away. He'd have to talk to him about that.  
>   
>  "And yet you're here."  
>   
>  "I'm here." Uninvited, she sat down in front of the plate he'd prepared-
> 
>  

Neal paused in his story. "See, I told you it was relevant."

He got a grunt from Peter in response.

 

 

> -and picked up the fork, digging in. "You're not the only one who can rat out his former friends."  
>   
>  Neal waited for her to continue, but she just munched happily, stopping in between mouthfuls just to exclaim "These are really good!"  
>   
>  "So.." Neal pulled out a chair opposite her. "What did you have in mind?"  
>   
>  She paused mid-bite to consider him. "How are your safe-cracking skills?"

 

Peter looked at his watch, visibly impatient. "So you've decided on a strategy of attrition? You'll talk Hughes to death? Just get on with it."  
  
"Fine. We talked. She stayed.. for a while. In any case, when I got to work, I immediately came to you." 

 

 

> Neal stood outside Peter's office. "Peter?"  
>   
>  "Hm?" Peter looked up from his work. "What is it?"  
>   
>  "It's.. I got a tip about an upcoming bank robbery. But I'm not sure it's relevant."  
>   
>  "You're not sure an upcoming bank robbery is relevant?" Peter repeated, unsure he heard right.  
>   
>  "The tip. Look, it's probably nothing, I just don't-"  
>   
>  Peter pushed the files on his desk aside. "Neal, have a seat. Who's this tip from?"  
>   
>  Reluctantly Neal left his spot by the door and sat down across from Peter. "It's a former accomplice of mine, we worked together for a very short time not long before you arrested me."  
>   
>  "And this accomplice told you about a bank heist? That's nice of him."  
>   
>  "Her."  
>   
>  "Ah." Peter said it as if it all suddenly made sense.  
>   
>  "What?"  
>   
>  "I get a feeling you had more than business dealings with this," Peter crooked his fingers into a quote mark, "accomplice."  
>   
>  "What does *that* have to do with anything?"  
>   
>  "You tell me." Peter smirked, but quickly turned serious again. He pulled a legal pad closer and poised his pen to write. "Did you get any details?"  
>   
>  "No. But Moira said she's willing to trade information in exchange for immunity."  
>   
>  "And you prefer we didn't give her that deal?"  
>   
>  "What?" Peter was obviously intent on twisting everything around.  
>   
>  "She's your former girlfriend, and you-"  
>   
>  "She *not* my former girlfriend."  
>   
>  Peter waved that away. "If she can help us prevent a crime, I'd like to talk to her. Set up a meet, I'll deal with the consequences."

 

Peter gaped at his CI. "Hold on. I never said that."  
  
"That was the implied meaning of your words."  
  
"implied meaning.." Peter shook his head. He was doing that a lot recently. A quick glance at the floor numbers showed him they still had a while to go.  The doors pinged open on the 11th floor.   Nobody was waiting there.  
  
"Let me tell you what happened Monday morning. First of all, you came in late."  

 

 

> "Peter?"  
>   
>  The FBI agent looked up to see Neal standing by his office door.  "You're late."  
>   
>  Neal had the courtesy to look slightly abashed. He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, sorry about that. I just had the most interesting talk with... someone. Who gave me a tip about an upcoming bank heist."  
>   
>  "Really? And which someone would that be?"  
>   
>  "A former accomplice of mine." Neal crossed into the office and pulled over a guest chair to sit down. "Look, I know what you're going to say, but I think you should at least hear her out."  
>   
>  "Her?"  
>   
>  "Yes. Moira, she's a former accomplice, but we really didn't work together for long." Neal hurried to say before Peter could insert any more questions.  
>   
>  Peter kept a straight face. "I suppose working wasn't the only thing you were doing."  
>   
>  Neal simply smiled in response.  
>   
>  Peter sighed, and picked up a legal pad. "Do you have any details on this supposed bank heist?"  
>   
>  Neal leaned forward eagerly. "Not yet, but Moira's willing to trade information in exchange for immunity. She wants a meet."  
>   
>  Peter looked at his mostly blank pad. A bank heist, a semi-anonymous tip. So far he had nothing. "Do you have any other details on this Moira? Does she have a last name?"  
>   
>  "Smith." Neal shrugged apologetically. "That's at least what she used to go by. I hadn't been in touch with her the past four years. You know, she was out of town, and I was-"  
>   
>  "Indisposed?"  
>   
>  "Yeah."  
>   
>  Neal's eyes shone. "She's an expert in security systems. Can disable anything you throw at her in five minutes flat."  
>   
>  "Impressive." Peter looked anything but. He dropped the pad back on the table. "OK, bring her by and we'll talk."  
>   
>  "Yeah, about that. She prefers not to hang around the FBI offices."  
>   
>  "Then set up a meet. Anything else?"  
>   
>  Neal grinned. "Actually there is.  She needs an expert safe-cracker for this job."
> 
>  

"That's what you're going to tell Hughes?"

"Word for word."

The elevator doors pinged open on the 15th floor. Both men fell silent, but there was only two people waiting there, and they wanted to go down. So far, they've had the elevator to themselves.

The minute the doors closed again, Neal turned on Peter. "You're the one who decided to set up the stakeout."

"You're the one who decided you were going to rob a bank."

"Well, Moira did. But it wouldn't have worked otherwise."

"You mean, we wouldn't have made such fools of ourselves?" Peter retorted, "Because that part worked perfectly."

 

> Two days later the team was assembled in the FBI van, outside the target bank. The plan was simple - let the thieves enter the bank and catch them in the act.  
>   
>  They were soon joined by Moira, carrying a tray of steaming cups of coffee. "Coffee delivery!"  She received several surprised blinks, to which she added.  "What?  Doesn't the junior member of the team always bring the coffee? Agent Burke? Black, no sugar?"  
>   
>  Peter took the proffered cup. "See that, Neal? You should probably be taking notes."  
>   
>  Neal didn't rise to the bait, and didn't lift his eyes from the schematics he was perusing. "Some of us are busy preparing for our next op."

 

Neal shook his head.  "And you weren't suspicious she spiked it?"  
  
Peter glared at him.  "Why should I?  It tasted just like every other coffee I've ever tasted in that van." 

 

 

> Peter took a small sip from his coffee and put it down in between the consoles. "OK, listen up. Caffrey and Moira will be on the inside.  Neal's wired." He turned to them both, "If anything goes wrong, the activation phrase is 'pineapple'. Got that?"  
>   
>  Neal nodded. "Pineapple. Yes."  
>   
>  "Moira will disable the alarms but ensure we have full visuals, so we'll be watching from here. Once the thieves have the loot, we'll swoop in. Any questions?" Peter looked around the van. "Then let's get to work."

 

"And that's exactly what we did," Neal pointed out. 

 

 

> It was a well-planned burglary. Moira's gang had set up base in an office building across the road and spent a month learning the bank from every angle, and perfecting their plan.  Then it was just a matter of waiting for the right opportunity to execute it, when the bank coffers would be filled to the maximum.  
>   
>  While the rest of the team tied up the night guard, Moira disabled the alarms.  They knew exactly where the vault was located, and which security measures they'd have to avoid to get to it.  
>   
>  "You're up, Neal."  
>   
>  Neal opened the bag he'd carried in with him and started laying out his tools on the floor.  The vault was top of the line, and he barely had a couple of days to prepare himself.  But Neal knew that the success of their entire operation now rested entirely on him.  It wasn't going to be easy, but he was up to the task.  As he was with every other FBI operation he'd ever participated in.

 

"Yes, I get it." Peter interrupted.  "The vault was impossible to get into, but you cracked it anyway."  
  
Neal opened his mouth to respond, but Peter wasn't about to let him.  "We've got three floors to go.  You can skip that part.  You got the vault open, then what?" 

 

 

> While the rest of the team was busy packing the money away, Moira approached Neal.  "I did miss you, you know.  We'd had a lot of fun, didn't we?"  She brushed her fingers down his face.  "Remember that time we got locked in the vault?"  
>   
>  Neal picked the hand with watch-cum-listening-device. "We've got ears on us."  
>   
>  She leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I kinda like it that way.  I've never kissed you with the FBI listening in."  
>   
>  "Not that we know of."  Neal grinned and leaned down to kiss her.  The FBI was going to be there any second now.

 

"It gets kind of fuzzy at that point."  
  
Peter rolled his eyes. "We have it all on tape, Neal."  
  
"Yes." Neal cleared his throat. He'd have to get his hands on that tape, before it started making its way around the office. "Well, yada yada, she pulled a gun on me. What was I to do?" 

 

 

> Neal drew back, hands half raised. "What are you doing?"  
>   
>  "It's not personal, Neal." Moira laughed. "No more than when you hand your friends over to the FBI."  
>   
>  Neal didn't bother answering. "Pineapple! Pineapple!"  
>   
>  "Don't expect any help from your FBI friends outside. They're indisposed."  
>   
>  Neal wasn't laughing. "I'm sure you won't take it personally when I put you in jail."  
>   
>  "Ooh. Spoken like a true FBI agent. Better watch out, Neal. You know what they say: once you go Fed, there's no turning back." She kept her gun pointed at him. "If you want to change your mind, now's the time."  
>   
>  "What do you mean?" The longer Neal kept her talking, the more of a chance he had to come up with a plan to get out of this mess.  
>   
>  "You've earned your take on this job, and you don't belong with the FBI. Come with us, you'll get an even split."  
>   
>  Neal blinked in surprise.  Moira was actually offering him to run away.  "No thanks."  
>   
>  "You're so trusting. When the Feds discover they've been duped, you think your FBI friend out there won't throw you to the wolves to save his own skin?"  
>   
>  Neal wasn't so sure about it, but his face showed none of the doubts he fell. "I trust him more than I trust you."  
>   
>  "Well, then, I guess this is goodbye. I really did miss you, you know. Till next time?"  
>   
>  "Don't count on it."  
>   
>  The minute she disappeared, Neal took off.   "Pineapple, pineapple!" he shouted into his watch as he ran down the corridor.  
>   
>  Rounding a corner, he ran straight into a team of police officers. "Officers!" He pointed behind him. "The gang's right there, they broke into the vault."  
>   
>  He noticed they all had their guns trained on him.  
>   
>  "What?"

 

Neal shrugged. "It wasn't my fault they wouldn't believe me."  
  
"Why shouldn't they?" Peter took a deep breath as the elevator finally left the 20th floor. "They get a call about a bank robbery in progress and find a convict inside the bank in the middle of the night, and an empty safe wide open."  
  
"A convict who tells them he's working for the FBI," Neal added.  
  
"Who *claims* he's working for the FBI."  
  
Neal shrugged again. "I don't see how this was my fault."  
  
The elevator had finally arrived at its destination and Peter pushed Neal out first. "Come on."  
  
The office was hopping when they arrived, with people running every which way. Hughes was standing in the center of it all, and when he saw Peter and Neal getting out of the elevator, he gestured them over.  
  
When they finally entered the office, the two exchanged a glance.  Tacitly, Neal let Peter start first. "Sir, about last night..."  
  
Hughes held up a hand to stop him. "Not now.  We've got a gang on the loose and 20 million dollars missing."  
  
Another agent approached them. "Sir, we might have a hit on them."  
  
"Time's a-wastin', Agent Burke!"  Hughes clapped Peter's shoulder. "You catch them, then we'll talk.  I'm looking forward to hearing exactly what happened."

 

 

 


End file.
